


Crybaby (But you don't fucking care)

by ItsAFuckingSnickersBar



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Dom Ian Gallagher, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, Little Mickey, Little Space, M/M, Non-Sexual, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sub Mickey Milkovich, Terry Milkovich's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28801137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAFuckingSnickersBar/pseuds/ItsAFuckingSnickersBar
Summary: One-shots (or more) of where Mickey Milkovich, Southside thug, is also a Little.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 39
Kudos: 62





	1. How to Request

**Author's Note:**

> And for the love of fuck, do not report and take down my story before I've put any of the one-shots up, that's ridiculous and highly annoying but it's happened to me before and I do not appreciate it.
> 
> Please note that if you want to request something, I have the story tagged non-sexual for a reason. I may or may not make a separate collection for requests involving smut if I'm comfortable enough writing that - but for now, it's non-sexual and this particular collection will stay that way.

Hello, people. I've decided to make a one-shot collection for Little Mickey as I just want to, anyone can feel free to request whatever that like (as long as it involves Little Mickey which is Mickey being in Little Space). 

A short explanation of what Little Space is: Little space is when the person in question reverts into a more child-like mindset, or more carefree. It can be used to deal with stress, trauma, and many other things though some people just enjoy doing it without having any sort of trauma or stress, it's just enjoyable to let go and be taken care of for a while. This is my understanding of it and if I'm wrong, feel free to correct me. 

Mickey is not a child in this and there is no predatory meanings behind these writings. I'm a little annoyed that I would have to write that, but it's just to let you know. There are no actual children involved in this practice.

Now, onto how you can request: Simply state who you'd like to be involved in the one-shot though the only pairing I do is Ian and Mickey, I also will not be writing Little Ian, this is just a collection of Little Mickey. You can request for others to be involved though: Lip, Mandy, Tami, Debbie, Carl, Iggy, etc. if you'd like for any reason but obviously not as a pairing. You can even request Little Mickey on his own or someone like the Milkovich siblings, or the Gallaghers being around Mickey when he's in that headspace, perhaps to watch over him or figure out what's going on. Just comment and I'll let you know if I'm able to do your request.

That's all. Feel free to drop your requests below.


	2. For Queen26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was good! I haven't looked over it or really edited anything, so feel free to tell me if anything's wrong.

Never did Mickey think he would be doing security work in a mall while wearing a lilac shirt and khaki shorts, yet here he was. He'd just gotten back from tackling some dumbass lady to the ground to get her to give back the ugliest piece of clothing he'd ever had the displeasure of laying his eyes on. He should've known something was up towards the end of his shift when the rest of the workers were still staring him down - some were scowling and some were staring in awe but it all was equally uncomfortable, so he decides to break the silence.

"Alright, what the fuck is going on?" He snaps, feeling irritated as he glares over at the others, trying to keep his fidgeting to a minimum though his thumb did come up to brush against the edge of his eyebrow.

"They were just talking about how you went all Milkovich on that woman out there." One of the female employees responds. He thinks her name is Sarah or some basic shit like that but he's more focused on her words, the mention of his last name making his stomach churn.

"I didn't fuckin' go Milkovich," He says, making quotations in the air with his tattooed fingers and rolling his eyes, trying to push away the unwanted feelings suddenly creeping up on him. He hasn't about to get emotional in public, at work.

"You totally did! I wasn't far behind you, remember?" Sam speaks up, some dork with glasses perched on his freckled nose. "You threatened to reach down her throat and out her asshole, if I remember correctly, to take back what she stole. I've never seen someone so scared!" He laughs.

Fear. That seemed to be what everybody thought he was good for, scaring the shit out of people to get them to do what he wanted. Just like Terry, he didn't want to be Terry. He sucks in a breath, the rest of them still not noticing his reluctance, so he quickly brushes it off. What do they fucking know about him? Nothing.

"Well, duh. He's a Milkovich! Have you seen his siblings? Pretty sure I went to school with Mandy Milkovich, she was knocking guys out left and right, when she wasn't blowing them." Another girl laughs, the high-pitched sound making his ears ring. "All of the Milkovich brothers are druggies too. Plus, have you seen their dad? Terry Milkovich?"

Another chorus of laughter spills out between the group as if Mickey wasn't standing right there, and they continue. 

When he finally looks up though, he notices it's time to leave and puts a scowl on his face, marching forward and shoving his way through them to make a point. He's pretty sure he knocks Sam onto his ass but he doesn't bother looking back. Instead, he clocks out and walks out of the mall in a fast space, heading straight to the L and getting on, his head down. He begins chewing on the inside of his cheek the more he thinks. Was that really what everyone thought of them? Of him? He curses quietly as he feels his eyes sting, tears prickling at them about halfway home. He spends the rest of the time just keeping them in, forcing them back and down. When he notices they're close by the house, he gets up and bolts out, running quickly all the way there until he can get inside, slamming the door behind him. Lucky for him, no one seemed to be home.

"Mick?"

Nevermind, it looks like his giant ginger is there.

He doesn't respond and Ian instantly knows something is up because he steps closer, his hand reaching out towards Mickey who smacks it away instinctively. Ian isn't having that though because he puts on _the voice_ as he opens his mouth to speak again. 

"Mickey, look at me," He says, his voice firm but soft at the same time - caring and protective, it makes Mickey slump just a bit, his body relaxing as he raises his head to look into Ian's eyes. The redhead always had a thing for eye contact, especially in moments like this. "There we go, good boy. Now, come upstairs and tell Daddy what happened."

Just like that, a choked whimper escapes Mickey's throat as he nods. He feels Ian grab his hand gently as if he'd break completely if he applied any more pressure, and leads him up the stairs to their bedroom. He hears the familiar sound of the accordion door as it opens and he's pulled in, then listens to it shut behind them before Ian's sitting on the bed and pulling Mickey into his lap who goes willingly.

Forest green eyes meet deep ocean blue and Mickey starts talking, not able to hold anything in even if he wanted to. He recounts the scene with the lady, then with his coworkers, telling Ian about all of the things they said about him and Mandy, his brothers though he didn't really give a shit about Terry. Ian just listens patiently, brushing his fingers through Mickey's soft hair as he speaks to offer comfort, and by the end of his rambling, he's a mess. His eyes are wet and there are tear tracks down his flushed cheeks, small hiccups escaping his throat all while he clings onto Ian.

Ian waits until he's completely done before he leans over and grabs a tissue, lightly wiping and dabbing at Mickey's red-rimmed eyes and cheeks, even getting him to blow his nose from how it'd stopped up because of the tears.

"Baby, you don't have to worry about those people. You're nothing like what's tied to your name and you're nowhere near being a monster like Terry. You want to know how I know that?" Ian asks, waiting for the soft, reluctant nod from Mickey before he continues. "Because you're Mickey. _My Mickey_. You got out of that situation and you found love. You got out, baby. You didn't let anyone stop you from doing what you wanted even though you were scared, you risked your life for love, for me, for us. You made something of yourself, Mick. You're trying hard and doing whatever you can to be happy. You got out of that house, you came out despite Terry, you got a legal job, and you love so much. That's all you, baby. You are the embodiment of love and sacrifice, and I thank whatever is out there every day that you let me see this side of you, that you let me love you, and that you love me too. You're so much more than just your last name."

Mickey can't help that he's crying silently again by the time Ian finishes and he's sure he even sees a sheen to his eyes as well. "I love you, Daddy." He whispers, surging forward to wrap around Ian so tightly that he nearly squeezes the breath out of him, but it's beautiful. They're beautiful, even as his rough, tattooed hands caress the pale, freckled skin on the back of Ian's neck. They stay like that for a few long minutes before Ian pulls back just enough to press his forehead to Mickey's.

"My precious baby," He breathes, kissing the tip of Mickey's nose. "I wish other people could see you the way I do. I wish they could all see how wonderful you truly are. You deserve the world." He whispers.

Mickey soaks the praises up like a sponge, eyes looking into Ian's as he wordlessly pleads for more. More praises, more reassurance, more comfort, and Ian understands. He pulls Mickey to lay down with him, pulling him up until they're facing each other, and wraps his arms around him, tangling their legs together and staring at his face with all the love and fondness in the world. 

Mickey's eyes reflect the same.


End file.
